


the art of digging shallow holes

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Torture, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: If the Throne Room didn’t go as planned and Kylo was left to pick up the pieces.A TLJ AU
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	the art of digging shallow holes

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I used to post Star Wars fics???
> 
> So…been working on this for over a year and now I’ve finally got the courage to post the first chapter.
> 
> Enjoy!

Kylo knew that the interrogation would be painful. He just wished he could’ve warned Rey in the elevator what was going to happen. That this was not going to be like _Starkiller_.

He had witnessed these things before against Snoke’s enemies. Kylo had allowed the screams and the wails of pain to wash over and drift away, not affecting him.

This was different. This was the girl, the scavenger, the fledgling Jedi. Soaked to the skin, huddled by a fire, alone and not alone. The woman who looked at him with hopeful eyes and perfect promises in the elevator.

He couldn’t ignore it now.

Rey screamed in pain, unable to move or struggle in Snoke’s grip.

Kylo winced in sympathy, his stomach roiling and anger bubbling in his chest, unseen from Snoke. He knew what it was like to have his mind flayed and prodded at. Snoke would tear through the outer defenses. He could plant a hallucination, if he was being particularly cruel or particularly merciful.

This was simple interrogation, finding his answers in her memories. It would end and it would hurt, but she would survive it. He could help soothe it with meditation and herbal remedies.

It continued, past the amount of time Kylo knew was normal. His body was a tense wire, wanting to run away, wanting to charge the throne and cut Snoke down.

Kylo was silent as he felt the thread that tied their minds together fray and snap as each individual strand was cut, one by one. He could feel it as if it happened to him.

Rey’s screams became hoarse and weak, before going silent. Just one remained, her life and her consciousness just barely hanging on. Snoke withdrew and Rey dropped to the ground with a soft thump, motionless save for her breathing.

She was alive. He could sense her life, or how her spirit at least remained in her body. Her death would feel like a bomb going off, shredding him to pieces. He knew that.

Rage bubbled in his heart, but it was too crucial a moment. He couldn’t react, not quite yet.

Snoke flicked a hand as he sat back on his throne, thoughtful.

“Hm, I didn’t think Skywalker would find such a remote place. Clever as he is foolish. He has no way to get off the planet, either.”

Kylo tried to keep his attention on Snoke, but his eyes kept drifting to the crumpled form that lay between them. She wasn’t waking up.

Stars, why wasn’t she waking up?

“A pity, but she was of little use to us,” Snoke said, noticing his attention.

For a moment, Kylo was sure he had been caught and would face a similar fate. Did Snoke sense his rage, his desire for revenge?

“Dispose of this,” Snoke sniffed. “Strike down this final weakness.”

He knew nothing. Of course, how could a creature like Snoke understand or comprehend what Kylo felt?

Kylo rose to his feet, playing the obedient servant he had been for years. He called upon the Force, turning the lightsaber by Snoke’s side towards him. Kylo stepped a little closer, panic and resolve, knowledge of the weakness, whirling around in his head.

The weakness wasn’t Rey, it was Snoke. He reached out, his act of defiant vengeance and the lightsaber ignited.

Snoke’s arrogance turned to shock, only to be snuffed out.

Kylo called the saber—Anakin’s, Luke’s, _his_ —to his left hand, his red lightsaber ignited in his right.

Snoke fell in pieces and his guards set upon him.

The world blurred into a smear of red and fire. Distantly, he was aware of Rey’s crumpled form, never straying too far from her. Snoke’s guards could easily strike down and finish what their fallen Master started.

Kylo was an animal, teeth bared, calling upon the Force to give him strength, to fill his body with energy and the will to carry out what knew was right. One of the guards landed a blow on him during the course of the fight, a smarting cut to his ribs. That particular guard didn't get to enjoy the partial victory for long before Kylo separated their head from their shoulders.

Red tinged his vision as the last guard fell, exhaustion and victory weighing down on his bones.

He won. Snoke was dead. He was free.

Clipping both sabers to his belt, he stooped over Rey’s form. Her brow pinched in pain and air just barely puffed out between her lips.

“Rey, please,” he whispered, willing her to awaken.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes didn't quiver under her eyelids. Kylo tore off his gloves and touched the curve of her cheek. He had no right to touch her, after what he had led her to. This was desecration, but he couldn't stop himself. She was ice cold, her consciousness a gentle, unknowing light, not the great fire it had been mere minutes before. It wasn’t right.

If he could have resurrected Snoke if only to kill him more slowly, he would have done it a thousand times over.

Kylo glanced over his shoulder. Undoubtedly, Hux would arrive soon once the Resistance fleet was destroyed, along with his men. From there, Rey’s life would only be forfeit. He couldn’t take her to the med-bay, where the droids would sooner kill her than save her.

There was nothing he could do until he remembered that simple fact: Snoke was dead. He was free. Now, there was an open path for him to choose where to turn.

Kylo acted without thinking. He hooked one arm under Rey’s knees and braced the other across her back.

She was very easy to carry. He didn’t fully appreciate it at the time. She had been an enemy, a means to an end, when he took her from the forest. Even when they were strangers, he knew that he couldn't allow her body to touch the filthy ground.

Now, now that she meant something to him, an offered hand in a lonely darkness, he noticed how small and fragile she was, just as she was tough and hardened by life. He had caught glimpses of it when they connected: neglectful parents, abusive taskmaster, hunger, thieves, betrayal and pain.

He could’ve been her reprieve from that, he could’ve given her something a thousand times greater than what she had lived before, if he had just...

He swallowed around a lump in his throat. The regret set in again. He had failed. But, maybe not completely, not yet. A chill shot up his spine, quickening his pace. Something was coming. They had to leave, now.

The halls were surprisingly empty, all the focus in the hangar. He could sense Hux and Phasma and…the traitor?

 _Finn_ , his mind supplied. Another bit of information that transferred from Rey to him as their minds linked together. It was a fact useless to him, but Rey found it important. It shouldn’t have made him feel jealous, but it did.

The traitor was going to die anyway, if what he sensed earlier was true. While part of him knew Rey would be heartbroken to learn that when she awoke and he wanted prevent that, the pragmatic part knew that he could either save Rey or the traitor, not both.

He was going to choose Rey over anyone in the galaxy. And the rest of the galaxy was going to have to deal with it.

He knew Snoke’s ship well, but every turn around the corner was as if it was the first time. Snoke and his guard were dead, but they were surrounded by the enemy regardless. He called upon the Force to shield them from view, unwilling to risk catching the eye of a random Stormtrooper patrol.

He snuck them aboard his ship, letting the crewmen drift away with glassy eyes.

Rey’s head rolled gently against his shoulder as he lay her down on the cot next to the medical droid. When he took his eyes off of her, anxiety panged through his chest. He glanced back to see she hadn’t moved from her resting place. She wasn’t going to disappear.

Kylo hopped into the pilot’s seat and started the ship, gracefully exiting the hangar.

It would be easy enough to get away from the fleet. They were currently occupied with the Resistance and he could fly through anything.

From there, he didn't know what they could do. Where could they go from here? There would be no friendly space for them until the ship was scrapped and his movements were limited if Rey was in this state.

With a wave of the hand, the medical droid whirred to life.

“I am MD-155,” it intoned.

Kylo pointed at Rey and ordered, “Take care of her.”

He hopped back into the pilot’s seat in time for the _Supremacy_ and half of the fleet to explode in a scatter of blue light.

Kylo recoiled, shielding his face from the bright light. The Force howled, _victory_ , as tens of thousands of First Order lives were snuffed out and welcomed a dead soul as a brighter, more familiar light burned itself out simultaneously.

Chaos roiled around them, a surprise strike from the Resistance.

Kylo reached out, muting the cacophony of the dead and dying. While difficult, he did know how to quiet his mind. He would have been driven insane over the years if he hadn’t.

His mother’s life still shone like a star, heading for a nearby planet. She lived and he couldn’t help the pang of relief. Too much pain in recent days. He couldn’t handle another loss.

His hands moved on instinct, inputting a set of coordinates and making the hyperspace jump. He could analyze the decision he made later. He had seen the planet in his dreams, during his meditations in front of Vader’s helmet.

The droid creaked softly behind him, injecting a substance into Rey’s arm. Wires and sensors attached to her skin, hooked up to monitors. Rey didn’t look any better. Her eyes were still closed and her skin pale. A little color returned, but, if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought her dead.

The droid turned its bright eyes to him. “There is little I can do, aside from bringing up her temperature.”

He had come to that realization quickly as he watched the droid tend to her, but it didn't make hearing it aloud any easier. This was the Force and the Force had to fix it.

“You are injured, Master,” the droid continued.

He twitched at the honorific, but there was little else the medical droid could call him. He didn't even know how to refer to himself. Ben Solo was dead, buried under a crumpled hut in the middle of a tranquil backwater planet. Kylo Ren, however, had torn apart his ideals and what _was_ Kylo Ren without his ideals? He had his abilities and his family’s legacy. While that left him with plenty of build off of, he still didn’t know what he was doing.

He prodded his side and feeling the thready sting of an open wound.

“I guess I am,” he said.

He sat on the cot’s edge, the adrenaline draining out of him and replacing it with weakness.

The droid shuffled closer. “Please remove your garments so I may administer bacta patches and stitches to the wound.”

He undid his coat and shirt and shrugged them off. The pain stung with the movement. Force knew how many times he had been cut open and sewn back together. This wasn’t a particularly special instance, even mild compared to some of the ‘training’ Snoke liked to put him through.

Snoke was dead.

Kylo lifted his arm to make room for the droid. It definitely wasn’t as accurate as the ones on the _Supremacy_. It was likely going to scar, adding another to his collection.

It was like when their minds connected for the first time. A droid pored over his face, fixing the wound _she_ gave him. The confusion from both of them, the rage from her, had swirled between them.

He found solace with her. Whether it was Snoke’s intervention or not, their souls fit together perfectly. It was their ideals that didn’t quite match up. Something to be remedied later, he had told himself. She had her fantasy of the future and he had his. Neither of them would come to pass, now.

The droid nudged his arm down after a time, muttering something about torn muscle, easily repaired.

Kylo turned to Rey again. Her dark eyelashes brushed over her cheeks. Kylo trembled where he sat, almost overtaken by the urge to press kisses over her closed eyes, her slack mouth, her cute nose.

_Cute?_

He stood up, overwhelmed, and the world tilted. His vision greyed in the edges for a precarious second before focusing again.

When was the last time he had eaten?

He scrambled through the little compartments next to the cockpit and found a few ration bars. The first he ate without tasting it, not stopping to take a breath between the two bites. His eyes drifted shut halfway through the third bar, dropping into his lap from limp fingers.

The world shivered around him, the tight walls shuddering with the force of wind and sand. Kylo felt a primal fear that was his and not quite his clutched around his chest. The storm reached a fever-pitch and a tiny cry, that of a child’s, escaped his mouth. The roof collapsed and smothered him with sand.

He jerked awake with a shout dying in his mouth.

Rey hadn’t moved an inch and the droid stared blankly at him.

“Do you want a tranquilizer, Master?”

Kylo shook his head, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He wanted to sprint out of the ship, find his end in the vacuum of space.

“No. I’ll be in the cockpit. Alert me if anything changes with her.”

Kylo turned away and walked with slow footsteps.

He sat heavily at the pilot’s seat, looking out to the smear of light in the viewport.

He truly was useless and that only made him angry. Snoke had taken advantage of his weaknesses, turning his resentment and blind, childish rage into tools to manipulate him. Now, Snoke was dead. He had to contain his anger. He couldn’t activate his blade and tear the console to shreds.

He slammed the back of his head against the headrest, over and over until the pain rang dully in his head. An animal-like snarl escaped his spit-flecked mouth. He was a storm in a bottle, but for the sake of the woman in the cot, he couldn’t destroy himself.

Instead, he went through each and every sensor and switch on the console, naming each one over and over, until he could deactivate the hyperdrive and put the ship into manual.

Naboo was a perfect blue-and-green planet, still peaceful through war after war. Still, he activated the cloaking on the ship and hoped that none of the Gungan colonies had obtained anti-starship weaponry.

Anxiety crawled over his skin as he searched for a clearing to land. Every moment he was flying, the more chances he could be spotted. If the Resistance or the First Order found out they were here, they would be hunted.

He found a space large enough to land, uncaring when the retracting wings still clipped the trees ringing the clearing. He didn’t need the ship anyway, not where they were going.

The ship shuddered and stilled.

Kylo stood and turned to Rey. He sat at her bedside, eyes sweeping over her sleeping face. Sleeping. He could accept that she was sleeping. Anything else was too difficult to imagine.

He grabbed her hand and swiped a thumb over her fingers. Her vitals stayed steady, unchanging. He wanted them to change for the better, an increased heartbeat, more brain activity, anything.

They could leave this ship without much guilt in depriving her from medical support. None of it was going to change anything. The bacta patches covering her chest and back would keep her nourished while he searched for more supplies.

He stomped his foot on one of the panels in the floor and it creaked. He pried it open and fished out a bag full of credits.

Even while he was fully under Snoke’s thumb, Kylo gave himself a contingency plan. It was enough to rebuild a life, but it would never be enough to shed him of his Force sensitivity. He wouldn’t have been able to get far with Snoke in his head.

He had allowed any memories of his family to be tainted by anger and resentment, but the practical knowledge from Han stuck. Knowledge was knowledge, no matter the source.

He shoved the credits into the bag, along with anything useful. The sabers went in there as well. With any luck, he wouldn’t need the blades for anything.

As he lowered the loading ramp, he glanced back at the medical droid. “Stay with the ship.”

“I understand, Master,” the droid intoned.

He supposed droids had little concept of life and death, at least not First Order droids. Kylo let it think that he was going to return. He had already set the ship on a timer to self-destruct.

He slung the bag across his back and cradled Rey in his arms as he stepped out. The dawn light warmed his face; fresh air rushed into his lungs.

With confidence he didn't really feel, he walked away from the ship, a huge reminder of his past allegiance. The ship exploded exactly a minute later, creating a conflagration so hot it twisted the frame so the design was unrecognizable.

He nodded at his work and started walking towards where he hoped was civilization.

It became clear within the first hour that he had made a miscalculation. They were nowhere near the capital of Theed, if the sprawling, uninhabited swath of land in front of him was any indication. All he could see was a huge, rickety-looking barn. With no fences or grazing cattle around, it must have been abandoned.

Kylo carried Rey over to the barn. It didn't even have a lock to keep the doors shut. There were bales of hay remaining and the smell of livestock lingered.

He leaned Rey against one of the beams as he whipped off his cloak and lay it on the ground. From there, he moved Rey to lie on top of it.

She looked too small surrounded by the dark fabric. He folded the excess over her until only her face poked out. She didn't shiver or burrow further into the cloak. She probably had no concept of heat or cold anyway.

They had found shelter, but there was still work to be done. The ship had never been supplied for long survival outings, so there was very little food or water in Kylo’s pack.

He needed to find a town. If he was lucky, there would be an inn so they could find proper shelter.

Kylo pulled away from her and turned towards the door.

It would be a short trip. If he ended up unable to find anything quickly, he would return.

He stepped towards the doors, turned around, and walked back towards Rey. His heart and the practical part of his brain warred against each other. They needed supplies, but he couldn't leave her alone. He couldn't even access the bond to keep an eye on her, only the vague feeling of her life. She was disconnected from him.

Is that why it hurt so much? The thought of leaving her alone was like someone was tearing a hole in his chest.

Kylo reached out his hand and pulled back before he could touch her. He already touched her too much, far more than what he deserved.

_Aberration. Monster. Snake._

“I won’t be gone long,” he breathed.

He stepped into the late morning sun, grateful that he didn’t have his cloak on. It was all too hot for that. Even without it, he could already tell he was going to get unbearably warm.

It took him almost half an hour to find a well-used road, another half an hour to find a town.

He hesitated at the town’s edge before braving the first steps into the clusters of neat little shops. He felt strangely exposed, though everything was soft and non-threatening. His saber in his coat was some comfort, but if he were to reveal it, he would be exposed as a Force-user, persona non grata for either the Resistance or First Order.

He was clearly an outsider, but he allowed the Force to cloak him just enough to keep suspicions at bay. Nabooians weren’t known for their paranoia, though their xenophobia against the Gungans was well-documented, even after the infamous Trade Federation invasion.

A human male would draw little attention aside from brief glances, though he ought to change clothes if they were going to be hiding on this planet for a long while.

He quickly found a grocer. They didn't need food quite yet, but they needed water. A cursory glance showed that the ice chests were full of juices and milks, no water.

“I need water,” Kylo announced to the bored-looking shopkeeper.

He looked up from his datapad at Kylo, towards the drinks, and back to him. “Don’t have any of that, unfortunately,” the shopkeeper said.

Kylo exhaled loudly through his nose. The damn idiot. “Do you have a tap in the back?”

The shopkeeper blinked at him. “Yes, we do.”

Kylo pulled out the two canteens and set them on the counter between them, followed by enough credits that it would’ve been foolish for him not to just do as Kylo said.

“Fill them up, please. I can pay.”

The shopkeeper gave him a skeptical look before accepting the credits. He took the canteens and filled them with water.

It was strange to have such an innocuous interaction. When was the last time he had spoken to a shopkeeper, or anyone who wasn’t from the First Order?

“Enjoy,” the shopkeeper said with a tight-lipped, forced smile. He could’ve shown a little more enthusiasm for the simplicity of the task and the amount of compensation, but Kylo accepted them with a grunt.

The only smile he wanted to see was miles away and her mind was locked away from him.

He made his way to the other side of town, and chose a light-colored shirt so he could exist in the town without looking like a dour, shadowy aberration amongst the bright and colorful people.

Finally, he found the only inn in town, a sprawling collection of squat building with quaint trimmings.

 _Seon Inn_. The words were spelled in flowing Basic and below it a garish neon sign, loudly declaring ‘no vacancies’.

“Figures,” he breathed. They were going to have to squat at that barn for a little while.

Turning back, he passed through the town square, only to stop.

A huge fountain sat in the center with a well-tended statue sat atop the little spouts and waterfalls.

It took a little shifting in place to see how the details caught the light. The beading on the gown and headpiece had been painstakingly carved into the stone, as if actual cloth. The woman's ceremonial makeup had been traced in as well, a person turned into a memorial.

There was no plaque to designate who it was, but Kylo knew enough of Nabooian royals that this was a statue of a queen. The townspeople need not know who it was by just looking at the fountain; it was obviously something that everyone seemed to understand.

Kylo, the outsider, was ignorant of the name and didn’t care to know.

He shrugged to himself, the beating sun chasing away the strange feeling that the statue should be important to him. Stones and memorials did little. What was dead was dead.

Retracing his steps back to the barn, Kylo kept an eye over his shoulder. No person followed. He had been a shadow, simply passing through, not worth following.

The barn was just as empty as he had left it and Rey hadn’t moved from where she lay. He cursed under his breath. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but the feeling of disappointment still sunk in his stomach like a stone. He pulled her up to a seated position, moving her to a patch of sunlight to warm her cold skin. From there, he grabbed one of the canteens and flicked off the lid.

He tilted her head up to slowly dribble water into her mouth, easing her throat to swallow. Her throat moved, involuntary, keeping her from choking. Just to see that movement brought some hope. Her body still protected itself, in as small a measure as it could.

A little water dripped from the corner of her mouth and down onto her chest. He wiped her chin dry with his sleeve, eyeing the wet spot on her clothes and deciding that the sun would be able to dry it just fine. He pulled the cloak’s hood over her head to shade her face.

Kylo leaned against the wall and watched her.

The strength and resilience that he had seen in her was nonexistent. She was swallowed by his cloak, defenseless. The vision of her blurred as his head lolled against the wood.

When he snapped back to reality, the sun no longer poured into the barn and left a pale darkness in its wake. He must have dozed off. Almost blinded with panic, Kylo scrambled forward to check on Rey. Her chest rose with faint breaths and her mind remained a glimmer.

“Dammit,” he hissed.

No change. Not even lightyears away from the enemy, she remained locked from him, weaker than an infant.

Kylo moved to sit next to her, the weight of his failure coming down over his shoulders. He had done this. He had gotten too close to her, lured her into a danger neither of them could have predicted.

It was foolish of him to think she would’ve turned to the Dark, that she had been anything different from the fiery beacon that connected with him in that hut and pled for his soul.

He wrapped his arm under her back and pulled her up to rest against his chest. Her chest rose and fell softly, but Kylo found himself very much aware of it. Now, he could sleep, knowing that her every movement was known to him. It still took him hours, gazing up at the open windows as flying creatures darted by and the stars twinkled coldly.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoot!  
> All comments and such are appreciated, especially in stressful times like this!  
> [I am also attempting to make my general twitter my writer twitter. Give me a follow there as well!](https://twitter.com/BlooRalts)  
> Cheers!


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